Transnational Literature Volume 5, No. 2 May 2013 Complete Life
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Transnational Literature Volume 5, no. 2 May 2013 Complete Life-Writing Book Reviews (in one file for download/print) Paul Ardoin Katherine Mansfield: The Story-teller by Kathleen Jones Dennis Haskell Facing the Music: Charles Baeyertz and the Triad by Joanna Woods; Apollo in George Street: The Life of David McKee Wright by Michael Sharkey Michele McCrea An Opening: Twelve Love Stories About Art by Stephanie Radok Punyashree Panda Alien Shores: Tales of Refugees and Asylum Seekers from Australia and the Indian Subcontinent edited by Sharon Rundle and Meenakshi Bharat Ruth Starke Love and Hunger by Charlotte Wood Julienne van Loon Mountains Belong to the People Who Love Them by Lesley Synge Lesley Wyndram Joyful Strains: Making Australia Home edited by Kent MacCarter and Ali Lemer Complete Llife-Writing Book Reviews Transnational Literature Vol. 5 no. 2, May 2013. http://fhrc.flinders.edu.au/transnational/home.html Kathleen Jones, Katherine Mansfield: The Story-teller (Edinburgh UP, 2010) Biography is a tricky genre, and a wider one than most of us recall until we open another biography and find it utterly unlike the last. Even the biography of an author, with its well- ordered, just-before-birth to just-after-death coverage, might focus on humanising or demonising, might focus on making the work reflect the life or the life reflect the work, might seek to please the scholar or the fan. Like so many other biographies, Kathleen Jones’s 2010 biography of Katherine Mansfield is like no other biography I’ve read before. Mansfield, unlike modernist contemporaries and friends such as D. H. Lawrence and Virginia Woolf, is primarily known for her short stories (among them ‘The Garden Party’) and for being born in the colonies (New Zealand) rather than in Great Britain. The transnational aspects of The Story-teller root themselves in this outsider position, emphasising that even ‘Katherine’s childhood was spent on the insecure margin,’ as coloniser occupying the space ‘between a recent immigrant civilization and the encroaching wilderness, inhabited by an older, non-European culture that was being dispossessed’ (14). Jones offers the position of the ‘permanent outsider’ (128) as a key ingredient in the making of this storyteller, whose ‘double heritage’ (19) and ‘struggle for one definitive identity’ (22) will only grow more important after she moves to England. ‘Born across two cultures’ (22), the Mansfield painted here will never feel quite at home. First, she’ll become ‘convinced that she will be unable to become a creative artist’ unless she moves to London (75). Later, she’ll insist that London destroys her ability to write, that she can only write in Paris, that she can only write in the country, that she can only write away from the country. She seems briefly at home as ‘part of an expatriate social group’ in Germany (117), where she will ‘sing Slavic songs’ (117), acquire ‘a love of Russian novels’ (118), and find that – in these surroundings – ‘poems and stories are spilling out of her, almost faster than she can write them down’ (118). This period spent with other outsiders is among the most productive of a career that will often stagnate for long periods. Jones should be credited for allowing this key ingredient to emerge and reappear throughout the text as a sort of musical motif, rather than trying to use it to drive all 500- some of the book’s pages. Even with section headings like ‘The Two Katherines’, ‘In Search of Katherine Mansfield’, and ‘The Member of a Wandering Tribe’, Jones’s biography never seems overtly focused on this single aspect of Mansfield’s life. In fact, Jones does not even restrict herself to the territory of the author’s life, often leaving the subject of Katherine for whole chapters to talk about the lives of Ida Constance Baker or John Middleton Murry in the years after Katherine’s early death. And this is what makes The Story-teller unlike every other biography I’ve read. Structurally, the book is curious to say the least. It is non-linear, with Mansfield dying more than once. It plays with narrative time, speeding and slowing, sometimes understandably (with an entire chapter on ‘The “Blooms Berries”’) and sometimes less so (with multiple chapters on the second Katherine, Murry’s next wife, Violet). The reader becomes less sure it is really all meant to be a portrait of Katherine. One could argue that what results is a sort of modernist genre of biography, reminiscent of the definition of modernism put forth in Mansfield and Murry’s collaboration on Rhythm magazine. Their modernism focuses on an ‘idea of rhythm in art’ we might tie to the unusual narrative rhythms of The Story-teller that, yes, now that we think of it, forgoes any ‘capricious outburst of intellectual dipsomania’ in favor of identifying ‘essential forms Book reviews: Katherine Mansfield: The Story-teller by Kathleen Jones. Paul Ardoin. Transnational Literature Vol. 5 no. 2, May 2013. http://fhrc.flinders.edu.au/transnational/home.html … essential harmonies … the essential music of [Mansfield’s entire] world’ (144-5). If ‘Art is the true and only expression of reality’ (145), perhaps the biography of an author must be more artistic than academic; perhaps the biography’s key figures must become characters? I’m not sure, but this theory would be one way to explain the sometimes unexpected judgments (one character ‘writes bitchily’ to others, [292]), assumptions (‘if John had brought a harlot in off the street the reception could not have been cooler,’ [204]), and moments of mind-reading (‘John believed that Katherine’s spirit lived on,’ [166)) in the book. As a reader, I did not for a moment suspect Jones of the kind of ‘not wholly false, [but] not entirely truthful’ ‘creative approach’ Murry took ‘to the editing of [Mansfield’s] notebooks’ (179), nor do I find any evidence of Jones following the ‘natural liar’ Mansfield’s lead in ‘“embroidering” everything’ (72). But Jones does seem to exhibit ‘Katherine’s talent to become her characters and to see the world from within their minds’ (90), a trait Mansfield fans might appreciate very much in a biographer. Paul Ardoin 2 Book reviews: Katherine Mansfield: The Story-teller by Kathleen Jones. Paul Ardoin. Transnational Literature Vol. 5 no. 2, May 2013. http://fhrc.flinders.edu.au/transnational/home.html Joanna Woods, Facing the Music: Charles Baeyertz and the Triad (University of Otago Press, 2008) Michael Sharkey, Apollo in George Street: The Life of David McKee Wright (Puncher & Wattmann, 2012) Writing the life of an author poses particular difficulties: it would be ridiculous not to examine the author’s writings but there is not enough space to analyse them fully and the intentional fallacy looms large in such analysis. In literary critical biography it is easy to fall between the stools of literary criticism and biography. Joanna Woods politely notes that her project ‘produced a number of challenges’ (9) but each of these books straddle the divide remarkably well. Indeed, Michael Sharkey’s book on David McKee Wright exhibits a depth of research and poised, intelligent literary judgement. Strictly speaking, Charles Baeyertz was not a creative writer – he was principally a music critic – but his creation and long term editorship of the Triad magazine generate the same issues. McKee Wright was a creative writer but he was also an editor of the Bulletin for ten years (hence Sharkey’s title), so both men had strong magazine roles. Sharkey declares his ‘interest in coteries and networks of writers, editors and publishers’ (17) and McKee Wright’s magazine work and journalism enable Sharkey to work to his philosophical view that writers should be studied in relation to their society and times. Joanna Woods effectively concurs, so that both these books provide fascinating portraits of literary life in Dunedin and Sydney particularly, and in New Zealand and Australia more broadly, in the early decades of the twentieth century. Baeyertz was born in Melbourne (in 1866) but left for New Zealand in 1891, returning to Australia, but now to Sydney, in 1914. McKee Wright was born in Ireland in 1869 but brought up in England from 1877; he emigrated to New Zealand in 1887 and moved to Sydney in 1910, leaving his wife and son to face the unpaid creditors. Baeyertz died in Sydney in 1943, McKee Wright in 1928, and each is mentioned in the other’s biography, not always in terms that flatter the other book. Woods shows that Sharkey’s statement that Baeyertz ‘regarded New Zealand as “Philistia” (Baeyertz’s term)’ (123) is misleading and that the description of ‘Morton’s Triad’ (296) – perhaps following Peter Kirkpatrick’s statement in The Sea Coast of Bohemia that the Triad was ‘nominally edited by its founder, C.N. Baeyertz’1 – is simply wrong. Baeyertz and McKee Wright’s experience of literary life in both New Zealand and Australia make it unsurprising that they had friends in common, such as Pat Lawlor, Frank Morton (who from 1908-1923 wrote much of the Triad), and Adam McCay. A.G. Stephens also moved across the Tasman, as did Henry Lawson and others, and these two books deepen our understanding of literary and cultural interactions in what even in my childhood was commonly called ‘Australasia’. Both Baeyertz and McKee Wright were cosmopolitan in outlook, far from endorsing any Bush school or nationalism; both stood for artistic formalism and against Modernism; both led complicated marital, Bohemian personal lives; and both displayed a Victorian industriousness that can leave you exhausted just reading about it. 1 Peter Kirkpatrick, The Sea Coast of Bohemia: Literary Life in Sydney’s Roaring Twenties (St Lucia: University of Queensland Press, 1992) 103.